


you don't have to say i love you

by goldfishsunglasses



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, kind of, like it's lowkey, lovey-dovey grossness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 17:48:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6480481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldfishsunglasses/pseuds/goldfishsunglasses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a couple ways Dan and Phil let the other person know how much they’re loved</p>
            </blockquote>





	you don't have to say i love you

1) This trip was supposed to be a break from the stress of their normal lives. And it was, but there were little cracks, stress fractures caused by events back home that no amount of gambling and late nights could completely seal. Part of Dan dreads going him, half because it means facing everything there, and half because he’d promised his audience a vlog and how the hell is he supposed to edit all of this? It would have to go the way of the India and Portugal vlogs, he just doesn’t have the time. Maybe nobody will remember his promise. Maybe they won’t even care. Maybe flying pigs will crash through the windshield. Actually, that would probably help to lighten the mood.

“I still don’t get why we had to drive.” Phil says tightly, just bordering on the edge of a proper complaint. “We could have just taken a bus.”

Dan doesn’t remind Phil that it was his idea to drive, and that Dan had suggested the bus but was shut down by Phil who wanted to have an “American road trip experience”.  
He can feel Phil getting frustrated. Driving was never something he was particularly good at, but he’d insisted on driving because this trip was a present to Dan, and he was a strong believer in the birthday boy not having to lift a finger. Dan slides a hand across the console, resting it on Phil’s knee and squeezing.

“Hey,” He murmurs, “Hey, **pull over. Let me drive for awhile.”**

Dan can read the hesitation on Phil’s face. He almost thinks he’s being ignored until Phil says “there’s a rest stop coming up. We can switch there.” Dan relaxes, and the tension in the the car lessens.

The building comes into view within the next half-mile (according to the map, because he’s not sure how long that is) and Phil pulls the car into the parking lot, knuckles white as he passes a truck going the opposite way, and Dan squeezes his knee again, both a reassurance and a reminder that he was there. They park, stirring up dust as they do so, and Dan watches as Phil exits the drivers side, visibly relaxing as he gets back in on the other side. It’s a bit weird, driving on a different side, but Dan isn’t too fazed. He asks Phil if he wants anything while they’re here, and Phil shakes his head and rests it against the car window. The next time Dan looks over, he’s fast asleep.

* * *

 2)”Is it present time?” Dan asks excitedly from his spot on the floor.

Phil nods, joining him, and grabs a small box from under the tree, passing it to Dan, who rolls his eyes at Phil’s stereotypically shitty wrap job. “I thought you were going to get Bryony to wrap your presents this year.” He says. It’s not a question, but not quite a statement and Phil hesitates because now his reasoning seems silly.

“I guess I just thought it might be a little more…personal, I guess.”

Dan turns the package around in his heads, and grins cheekily. “Well it definitely has that extra-special Phil Lester touch.” Phil shoves his arms lightly, and Dan does it back and Phil leans into him and it’s an easy, comfortable routine. They sit there, enjoying the silence and each other for a moment before Dan remembers what he’s holding.

“Shit, hang on.” He unwraps it carefully. He might make fun of Phil’s skills, but Dan still cares enough about his boyfriends feelings to keep from ripping the paper away. Inside is a new phone case, black, with gold stars, and it’s perfect. “Thank you!” He exclaims, and doesn’t miss Phil’s triumphant smile. Dan knows he prides himself on always finding the perfect presents for people, and ever since their first Christmas, when Phil had surprised him with the stuffed Tonberry that he still treasures today, it’s he has. Speaking of stuffed toys…

Phil pokes the lumpy package under the tree. “And you made fun of my wrapping job.” He snorts.

“Listen,” Dan protests. “You’ll understand when you open it.” Phil wastes no time, ripping off the paper eagerly (he does not share Dan’s wrapping paper philosophy), to reveal a stuffed pink blobfish. He picks it up and clutches the stuffed toy to his chest, not even bothering to hide his delighted grin. “I love it.” He declares.

Dan flushes, years later he’s still not able to graciously accept compliments, but he knows Phil can tell he’s pleased by the reaction to his gift. He’d been worried it was too small, too silly, not enough, but Dan should have known better. **“It reminded me of you.”** He says, and Phil kisses his cheek.

Well, he tries to.

Instead, his lips meet another pair, warm and familiar, but he jerks back anyway..

“Dan!” Phil says, playfully scandalized, “not in front of our child!”

“Don’t worry, I got this.” Dan gently pulls the toy from Phil’s grasp and sets it on the floor facing away from them. “All better.” He says, satisfied with himself, and he pulls Phil in for another kiss.


End file.
